


tooth and nail

by ynjunwhore



Series: simp for yeonjun [6]
Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Violence, Bottom Choi Yeonjun, Hand Jobs, Killing, Lots of it, M/M, THEY RUN AWAY AT DA END, Top Choi Soobin, We, as always, but so is yeonjun, everybody gets high, gawd dis took too long, i bullshitted da end we, inspired by dat one song, kinda angsty, shit damn, sometimes, soobin is kinda an asshole, uh, very angsty actually, whew chile, yeonbin rebels ❤, yeonjun is kinda uh, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25964377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ynjunwhore/pseuds/ynjunwhore
Summary: He wipes his mouth on the back on his hand, turning around to face a wide eyed Yeonjun, his body frozen in that cocky, insolent stance. And Soobin feels it -- the flowers blooming.Petals in his lungs. Thorns scraping his throat.or,Soobin and Yeonjun are assassins, trained to kill without mercy, taught that feelings are weaknesses. But their wills are put to the test when they receive their next targets.In his short and wholly unsatisfied life, Soobin never expected to end up pressing a knife against the throat of someone who shared his bed.
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Series: simp for yeonjun [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801507
Comments: 12
Kudos: 160





	tooth and nail

**Author's Note:**

> my acc got restricted but at least my ao3 will never go away 😹😹

Soobin's hand is going numb.

After squatting on a roof, feet delicately balanced over slippery tiles, his _whole body_ is going numb. Drained of blood. His hand, tightly gripping the handle of a blade sharp enough to cut through metal, is buzzing with a weird prickly feeling.

He smoothly switches the blade to his other hand, grimacing as he spots the man he's supposed to murder in cold blood walk towards the door Soobin happened to be leaning against a few minutes ago.

He swallows, and with deadly accuracy, throws the blade, releasing it at a tilt that allows it to lodge itself in the man's throat. The man claws at his neck, crimson blood dripping onto an expensive jacket that Soobin briefly wishes he had taken before leading the man to his doom.

Within a minute, the man dies.

And Soobin's job is done.

He pushes down a stab of regret at his actions, the little bubbles of _wrongness_ that clouds his judgement. The alarms singing in his heart about how wrong it is to spill blood like this, cold heartedly and without a proper farewell.

(" _Snap_ out of it, _Choi._ " His boss spits out with contempt, landing a painful kick to Soobin's ribs. Stars explode beneath Soobin's eyelids, a painful thing that leaves him speechless, his vision going dark even with his eyes wide open.

"Regret, pain, _love._ So many weaknesses you have to fix." His lips curl back into a snarl that chills Soobin to the bone. "Strength," The despicable man yells, "is not easily gained."

He smiles cruelly at Soobin, laughing at the way he wheezes for air, sucking it in greedily even as pinpricks of pain race along his body. "This is your trial."

"And it starts now.")

He sends someone to deliver the message, the confirmation, to his boss. It was done, with no mistakes. Just like all of Soobin's previous kills.

It's even darker when he gets home, and he peers with cautious eyes into his bedroom for any sign of robbery or skulking from unwanted strangers. Satisfied that there's nothing out of the ordinary, he steps in and changes out of tight leather and into simple jeans and a shirt. A jacket thrown in too, even if the cold doesn't have an effect on him.

He breaths in the clean air once he steps outside again, eyes automatically scanning the darkness for any threat.

_Old habits die hard._

The drive to Jun's house is unnecessarily long, and Soobin's mind wanders willingly into what he calls, "The Gutter." His hands tighten on the wheel at the thought of Jun's lips, his pretty rosebud mouth working wonders on Soobin's cock.

His long legs wrapping around Soobin's waist, his mouth falling open in a wordless moan...

Soobin's lips pull up into an anticipating smile as the white, neatly arranged house comes into view, Jun's pretty face greeting him at the base of the steps leading up to the grandly framed door. Jun's hair is bright even in the dim moonlight, and his wide, shining smile even brighter.

Jun giggles when Soobin wraps his arms around his waist, shamelessly tiptoeing to kiss Soobin hungrily. Soobin sighs into the kiss, all too aware of the way Jun's thin shirt slips down his shoulder, revealing an unblemished expanse of skin that Soobin would gladly mark up. 

Soobin smiles lightly when Jun pulls him inside, tugging insistently at his hand as he leads him past the bright, gilded mirrors that probably cost a fortune. It's all familiar to Soobin, down to the last vase of flowers standing outside of Jun's room.

Jun leads him into the room, smiling coyly as Soobin blinks in astonishment. Staring at the candles that provide dim lighting in the already darkly colored room.

Soobin sucks in a sharp breath when Jun pushes him onto the bed, soft covers rustling under him as Jun climbs onto his lap, eyes half lidded and lips pushed up into a pout. "I missed you."

Soobin swallows, pushing away guilty flashes of crimson colored clothes and weapons tucked into his pants. "I know." He mutters softly. "I missed you too." He lifts his hand to caress Jun's face, ignoring the way his mind whispers how wrong it is to let himself go like this.

_"Love is a weakness."_

Jun smiles brightly, a beautiful thing that makes Soobin's heart beat wildly. He ignores it in favor of Jun's pretty, glossed lips. Strawberry. That's what Jun tastes like. Strawberry and cherry.

Jun lets out a little high pitched whine when Soobin's hand dips down to his jeans, popping off the button in a rush and undoing the zipper. Jun giggles, too intimate in the darkly lit room. "Impatient, are we?"

Soobin grins lazily. "You know it."

Jun's pleased smile melts into a gasp and a moan when Soobin wraps his hand around his cock, teeth nipping at the column of Jun's throat. "Pretty." He mutters, relishing in the way Jun's cheeks flush red, his eyes lowering as he bucks his hips into Soobin's hand.

"Good thing," he gasps out, "that you've got such big hands."

Despite himself, Soobin laughs breathlessly, his hand still twisting around Jun's leaking dick. Jun trembles from where he's sitting, legs spread on either side of Soobin's lap, hands pulling at the edges of his loose fitting shirt desperately.

'I'm gonna-" Jun sucks in a sharp breath, his sparkling eyes hazy and unfocused. "Oh, oh, _oh._ " He cries out when Soobin pulls back his hand, leaving Jun in a frenzy. "Binnie, you're _mean._ "

"Yeah baby, mean is my middle name."

Jun gives him a petulant glare, slipping out of everything but his shirt. His pursed lips pull up into a tiny smile when Soobin pulls at his waist, pressing him into the bed with nothing but a small grin. "You're so cute." Soobin coos.

His smile widens when Jun flushes, shaking his head violently in an attempt to deny the words that ring true in Soobin's heart. The pretty pink dusting his cheeks deepens when Soobin places his hand on Jun's thigh, grip tight and bruising. 

"Pretty." He mutters, pressing his lips against Jun's harshly, drawing out whines from Jun that make Soobin smile coyly. Jun jolts when Soobin pushes two fingers inside of him, lips lifted in a smirk.

"You're so loose and sloppy." He whispers, his words cruel despite the sugary tone coating them. "What a fucking _whore_." He grins wickedly, eyes focused purely on the way Jun's eyelashes flutter, his face flushed, his lips bitten down and red. The way each twist and turn of his body drives Soobin's fingers in deeper.

"Binnie _please._ "

And who is Soobin to deny him?

He lets out a muffled groan when he sinks into Jun, chest heaving as he grips Jun's waist with a tight hold. Jun bruises easily, pale skin tender and soft, and it's something Soobin loves to take advantage of.

Jun whines when Soobin presses tiny, soft kisses against his exposed shoulders, pouring his feelings into every single one, sealing his heart shut as he goes. Like stitches, like locks and keys, closing it off until only the physical intimacy remains.

Because love is a weakness, and Soobin sure as hell isn't weak.

Jun gasps out a curse when Soobin thrusts into him roughly, arms locking around Soobin's neck, black painted nails scratching at Soobin's back. Through his shirt, the sharpness of them stings. Which is appropriate, seeing as how Soobin's whole life has been one cold disappointment after another.

Soobin shudders when Jun's mouth falls open in a silent moan, bare thighs blooming red in candlelight. Shadows dancing on the wall as Soobin fucks into Jun with fervor, his eyes closing and his heart thundering.

The room is suffocating with heat, with nothing to deflect from the wax melting, every second getting warmer and warmer.

Soobin lets out a wanton moan when Jun's back bows off the bed, tight tight tight with tension and waiting release. His skin glows faintly, his eyes dancing with lights and stars. Soobin swallows, his body locking and relaxing when he cums, his hands resting on the bed as he _breaths._

("Feelings are for the weak."

Another punch, another kick, this time Soobin is ready. He's been training for years to go against the best of the best, and now he's ready to accomplish what was drilled into him long ago.

"You are not weak." The man announces. "So do not feel.")

"Thank you." Jun mutters.

And Soobin is like a camera closing off, not quite ready to take those precious snapshots. 

He is not weak.

Yeonjun did not plan to fall for the boy with a playful smile.

Of course, he also didn't plan on stealing a rich man's wallet, but who gives a fuck about intentions? All that matters is that it happened, finally, and now Yeonjun is freaking out. He's standing in front of his boss, waiting for a file, while his mind ventures into dangerous territory.

"Here." Mr. Kim says finally, tossing Yeonjun a folder with two pages of information. When Yeonjun flips it open, and he sees the face on the paper, he freezes. And the name. Oh god, _the name._

"Choi Soobin. Very skilled, highly intelligent, fucking competitive."

Yeonjun swallows the bile threatening to come up. "Seems like a nice guy." He says, his voice lacking his usual edge of superiority. His boss looks at him with something akin to worry, before he continues. 

"I'm sure you can handle him. He's had less training than you, and you're our best."

He meets Mr. Kim's cold, calculating gaze.

"You _will_ handle him."

Yeonjun's heart squeezes, crumpling like paper in a fist, and his resolve hardens. "Yes sir." He straightens up, posture impeccable, unfeeling grin falling short of just plain _nasty._ "He won't see me coming."

Mr. Kim smiles coldly, his leering gaze resting on Yeonjun's body, clad in tight leather. "I believe you." He says simply, turning away to face his desk. "You're dismissed."

"Yes sir." He chokes out through the vines squeezing his heart. "Thank you sir."

"I won't disappoint you."

He walks out the door, footsteps silent, his smile slipping away within a second. He ignores the looks of admiration directed at him as he walks through the clean hallways, the waves from his too joyful colleagues, and glares at the people that try to come too close, maybe hoping for a few words in exchange.

He knows they think of him as a bitter asshole.

And he doesn't care.

He feels _betrayed_. He shouldn't, considering him and Soobin agreed to the whole no strings attached, only Saturdays arrangement. But still, the thick, heavy feeling of deceit feels like a hot, double edged knife slashing at his heart. 

His feet drag along that too white, too clean floor. No red, no red.

No red.

Too much blood spilled.

Yet no trace of it anywhere. No trace of the crimson dripping down his thighs from too many lashings, no sign of the shackles on his wrist that left his skin tender for a year. No sign of the torture he was forced to endure since he could walk.

No sign of the lives taken in these very hallways. No sign of the bodies too tired to protest as they were beat at, no sign of the minds too weary to hope for rescue. No sign of the screams of people as they were dragged, bleeding and broken, from the people they loved.

Because life comes at a price.

And the price is not so easily paid.

Feelings, as he was taught, are to be drawn from at the right time.

Anger, fire hot and blazing, to be unleashed on those who hurt anyone he loves. Love, fierce and caring, to be a source of motivation. There is no place for regrets or betrayals, no space for emotions that can't be used as weapons.

And Yeonjun has no more slots left in his heart for a lover.

So, Yeonjun concludes with a crying, blind heart, Soobin has to go.

Soobin has never defied orders.

He was taught that, while being independent is important, to defy a superior is a death sentence.

And he's never had any reason to defy orders. Why should he, when his whole life he's been taught that he _is_ the weapon, the knife waiting to be wielded? Growing up so twistedly, so devoid of morals...

Soobin doesn't know what to do with the dread and warmth pooling in his chest.

Choi yeonjun.

He toys with the name, tossing it around now and then, tasting the bitter way his heart warms every time he thinks of Yeonjun. It's not right, he reasons, to keep your identity hidden like that after you've known someone for months.

Especially if those months were spent moaning each other's nicknames like a prayer.

He curses away the distant images popping into his mind as if on cue, digging his nails into his palms as a force of habit. Not stopping until he feels wet blood dripping down his fingers. 

He unfurls them, letting the crimson droplets land on the white, completely spotless floor of his house. Stains, so easily removed, will form there. And Soobin finds that he doesn't care.

Choi Yeonjun.

He closes his eyes, thinking about the way his boss spit out the name like it was a dirty thing, like Yeonjun was the very devil come to earth just to torment him. But Soobin knows it's just because he once tried to recruit Yeonjun, instead ending up with a missing finger and a fading laugh.

Soobin has to say, that merits respect.

He crumples the informative sheets in his bloodied palm, crushing them with a force of anger that surprises even Soobin. He reminds himself that he doesn't know Yeonjun, not really. He only saw the pretty smile, the flushed cheeks, the coy look in his eyes, and fell straight into his golden platter like a well delivered meal.

("What's your biggest secret?"

Soobin takes a pause at the question, afraid that if he answers wrong Yeonjun will shut himself in like he always does. "I... don't know." He licks his lips, his brain trapped between telling an ugly truth or a pretty lie.

"I guess... I'm scared that my job is turning me into the monster that I used to dream would come and take me at night. And it scares me. Because nobody wants a monster. Hell, _I_ would despise that monster."

Yeonjun hums, his fingers tangled in Soobin's hair. "I wouldn't hate you." He whispers softly, his words fleeting and pure. "I'd still see the same person under all that carnage."

Soobin ignores the warmth blooming in his chest at the words, his breath shaky as he lets out a small puff of air. "Trust me. You'd hate me to your very core." He presses a kiss against Yeonjun's bare shoulder. 

"And I wouldn't blame you for it.")

Hope is weak. Hope sputters out and dies, like a flame running out of fuel.

Soobin hates hope.

[1 message from Best Boy Jun]

 **Best Boy Jun:** we need to talk

 **Actually God:** Your place.

 **Best Boy Jun:** k

"I'm surprised you came."

Yeonjun's voice is soft, an undercurrent of amusement running along the words. He gives Soobin an unfamiliar smile, cruel and twisted, that reminds Soobin that he's not dealing with the same sweet, soft hearted boy he met all those months ago in this same white, expensive house.

Soobin's reply is curt and sharp. "I'm not a coward."

Yeonjun shoots him a mocking grin, his fingers drumming on the kitchen table he's sitting at. "No, you're not. You're a big, strong alpha male who never gives up a challenge aren't you?"

His hand shoots out so fast Soobin barely has time to dodge the knife before it embeds itself behind Soobin, marring the newly painted wall. "Nice shot." Soobin drawls, walking towards Yeonjun slowly.

Yeonjun stares at him suspiciously, his hands creeping down to thumb at his tight, black ripped jeans, at the obvious stack of weapons hidden beneath the shirt, next to the belt. "But," Soobin says quietly, dark eyes roving over Yeonjun's prideful, cocky stance. "Not better than mine."

In a fast move, he ends up behind Yeonjun, knife pressed up against his Adam's apple, his lips lifting slightly in a satisfied smile. "Not so powerful now, are you?"

Yeonjun doesn't move, his whole body stilling so completely that Soobin realizes he's the one shaking, the blade digging into Yeonjun's skin sharply. Blood trickles down the column of his neck, a red so vivid, contrasting against Yeonjun's pale skin.

He draws it away just slightly, enough for Yeonjun to have enough space to talk.

"Kill me."

The words, soft and pained, stop Soobin in his tracks. His smile falls, his eyes widening.

"what?"

Yeonjun doesn't hesitate, his fingers coming up to wrap around Soobin's wrist in a vise-like grip. "I don't want to kill you, not really. I wouldn't be able to live with it." He pauses, a laugh spilling out of him, loud and unhinged. "Without you."

Soobin swallows, his hand going slack, his knife falling with a loud resounding bang that makes him wince.

"No."

He vomits.

(Weak.)

He wipes his mouth on the back on his hand, turning around to face a wide eyed Yeonjun, his body frozen in that cocky, insolent stance. And Soobin feels it -- the flowers blooming.

Petals in his lungs. Thorns scraping his throat.

"Let's run away." He blurts out.

Yeonjun's eyes flicker with unrestrained shock, his fingers coming up to touch the blood on his neck, smearing it in a way that makes Soobin ache. "... Run away? to where?"

Soobin blinks, his smile coming back. This is happening.

It is.

"Anywhere."

Yeonjun smiles tentatively, wincing as he presses a napkin against the cut on his neck. 

"Okay." He says softly, and Soobin's whole world lights up. "Let's do it."

They're free.


End file.
